The light shines bright on the shores of the Wabash.

I’m riding the rails called the city of Chicago.

Soon it will be cold,

and the Hawk will carry me away.

The leaves are turning left and falling into the forest carpet.

I look forward to a spring afternoon of drinking ice tea

and reading about some war that once was far away. Now we sit amongst the bricks and bones

from a wild man wearing dynamite clothes!

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